Author's Note: lol, it's coming! It's coming! I have slowed down on my posting just a little... but only because I've been spending far too much time up at Mount St. Helens gawking like a tourist. It'll be worth the wait, I promise!

OOOOOOOOOOO

"It looks pretty quiet up there..."

Nathan Brooks turned to the man standing next to him.

"Too quiet, Ian?"

"Don't say that, Nate," Colonel Ian Piper said, slapping his friend on the shoulder, reassuringly. "I'm sure he's fine."

A dark look crossed Brooks' chiseled features and the blue eyes that had a moment before held concern now almost seemed to darken with hatred.

"If he's not, someone's going to pay dearly."

The two men were standing at the base of a small hill, looking up at a house that was built on a semi-private acreage of heavily wooded growth. Major General Nathan Brooks USAF (ret) was a large stocky man with piercing blue eyes that stood in sharp contrast to his deeply tanned face. His blonde hair was cut in a crew cut that was so short he practically looked bald, and had he not been scowling so fiercely, he would have been a fairly handsome man.

The man standing next to him was Nathan's best friend for as long as they could remember. The two of them had met at the Air Force Academy and had served their country together ever since – mostly in special ops, but later in a far more aggressive field in Washington DC, once Brooks had been given his second star and had been reassigned from the battle field to a desk. He'd taken Colonel Ian Piper with him, refusing to be without the man who was the closest thing to a brother he'd ever had, and Colonel Piper had been the first one Nathan had called once he'd heard about his son's disappearance from his bed at the Academy.

In the middle of the fucking night! Who kidnapped cadets from their beds? And how had they managed it? Nathan Brooks knew his son well, and he'd known that there was no way anyone would have been able to force Ian to go with them without some way of subduing him. Nathan just prayed that whatever way it had been, it hadn't been lethal. As he'd turned to Ian Piper to find out the answers, telling his friend to call in every favor anyone owned Nathan, Brooks had tried to figure out what could be behind the abduction.

Obviously it could be personally motivated. Nathan had made a ton of enemies in his time in the military – and if he considered it honestly – out. He'd gone into fire inspections for the city of New York once he'd left the service – more to keep busy than out of a real need for a job – and he'd been tough on all violators. Had probably made more than his share of enemies in his quest to defend the public from fire hazards and cheap landlords and club owners who weren't willing to put out the extra money to protect those they were supposed to be looking out for.

Before he'd even managed to make a mental list of all the possible suspects who might be able to carry this bold as bras move out – and the list wasn't very long – Ian Piper had called Nathan with the news he'd wanted to hear. One of the Army's Special Forces units – Rangers – had been recalled from an assignment only a day or so before, and their destination orders had them on a flight to Colorado Springs. The men had been assigned to barracks at Schriever but had never checked into them. After some digging – and Ian Piper was very good at digging – he'd found out why. They'd been rerouted for a 'special duty' by some unnamed senior official. And while Piper hadn't been able to find out who the unnamed official was, he'd managed to find out the locations of several 'safe houses' in the area – houses that were used to hold all sorts of interesting people. Perhaps even political prisoners?

He and Brooks had been in the air in only a matter of hours – only three had passed since the Commandant had originally called Nathan – and pulling his rank and a ton of strings, Brooks had commandeered a two-seat fighter to take him and his second in command to Colorado, where Nathan was damned sure going to get his son back – and was going to make sure that whoever took him learned the hard way you don't fuck with him.

While they'd been in the air, the safe houses had all been checked. All but one was standing empty, and the one that wasn't showed signs of life – although no definite sign of Ian Brooks or the other two missing cadets. This was almost definitely where the Rangers had vanished to, and if they were the ones that had taken Ian, then there was a fair chance that the young man was in there somewhere.

A young Major came trotting up, saluting smartly and waiting for Brooks to return it.

"Sir, we just intercepted a call that you need to hear..." The Major held out a hand-held tape recorder, and Nathan Brooks took it and pressed play. The silence in the air was deafening as the three men listened to two unknown voices discussing Ian Brooks.

"That voice sounds familiar," Piper said, once Brooks had pushed the stop button to rewind it.

"It is familiar," Brooks said, darkly. "It's the voice of a dead man."

He turned to the Major. "I want all your men ready to go on my signal, Major. Non-lethal means of control – my son's in there and I don't want him hurt – but I want those bastards."

"Yes, Sir."

The Major ran off to make his plans – plans that Brooks would make final approval of – and Nathan turned to Piper.

"If you see Ian before I do, you keep him safe..."

"You know I will."

Brooks nodded; he did know.

OOOOOOOOOO

They brought Clay upstairs and Jack tied him firmly to a chair in the middle of the small room that looked like it might have been a den of sorts. The reasons were obvious; if Kinsey called again, Jack wanted the Major where he could get the phone to him in a hurry – Kinsey had been almost suspicious before, and it wouldn't do to scare the Senator off with something so easily fixed. The other reason was that Jack was honestly worried that Ian was going to shoot Clay, and he really didn't trust the Cadet's aim. Jack needed the Major alive. So he relieved Ian of his guarding duties for a while – putting Jaffer in charge of the Major instead – and told the cadet to find some clothes and get dressed.

Ian hadn't wanted to give up his guard duty – he was worried that O'Neill might send him back to the SGC (whatever and wherever that was) if he wasn't needed, and he'd protested, but only for a moment. Jaffer was far more intimidating when it came to guarding than Ian was, and he had to admit he sort of enjoyed the way the black lab made a low growl every time Clay made any move at all. The Major was obviously more afraid of being bitten than he had been of being shot by Ian, because he certainly didn't press his luck with the dog. After a few soft growls, Clay had become a virtual statue.

Ian had gone into the bathroom carrying one of the duffle bags the Rangers had brought with them, and had emerged half an hour later freshly showered and dressed in a slightly baggy uniform with the guns tucked neatly into the waistband of the pants – which were belted tight. He went over to where Jack and Teal'c were standing in the living room, wondering if the Colonel had something he wanted him to do.

"Well, you look better," O'Neill had said when he approached. "Although you need to put on a few more pounds to really-"

A tinkling of broken glass drew their attention and they all looked at the picture window that held such a magnificent view of the area when the shades were up. Something had just come through the window, blasted through it so hard that it also shredded the screen. A canister landed in the middle of the room, followed by several more.

"Get down!"

Jack dove for the other side of the couch, tackling Ian on his way past and dragging the cadet to safety just in time. A large concussion rocked the room, followed by another, and then another. It was deafening. Windows were breaking everywhere, but Jack realized it wasn't from the explosions. There were people coming through those windows. He lurched to his feet, Sam's Beretta in one hand and a stolen Glock – similar to the one Ian had tucked into his pants – in the other, facing the direction of the first crash. This was where the leader was going to come from, Jack knew from experience.

"Freeze!"

The room was filling with men in BDUs coming through every entrance. They'd entered through other windows besides the ones in the living room but hadn't found any resistance and as per orders, they'd all converged on the living room, only to find themselves in a stalemate.

One man in jeans and a tee-shirt – obviously Military – had two handguns trained on them. Another man – a mountain of a man in black BDUs – had a P-90 on them (and they all knew that little machine gun could wreak havoc)

"Freeze!" The Major repeated, as a large figure came crashing through the remains of the picture window with his own guns drawn. The twin Berettas in his hands were immediately pointed at Jack, who responded by pointing his own guns at this man. Then he realized he knew who the guy was – even though it'd been a while since he'd last seen him.

"Nate?"

Brooks was just as floored.

"Jack?"

"Dad!"

Jack looked over at Ian, shocked.

"Dad?"